


Solo with the Wind

by Delphinapterus



Series: Sailing 'verse [2]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: F/M, Ownership, Sailboat, Sailing, Weather, Workplace relations, bad relationships, break ups, ending relationships, speculation on relationships, under 1000 words, work place problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-01
Updated: 2010-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-08 14:36:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphinapterus/pseuds/Delphinapterus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Are all the things that could have been but fantasy? After the events of 4.09 Amber thinks about things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solo with the Wind

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: up to and including 4.09 "Games". A direct prequel to Friggin' Under the Riggin'.

Dr. Gregory House is the most insufferable bastard on the whole fucking planet. Volakis wants to scream and rage at the unfairness of it all. Not getting picked after all she'd done. She buys a new bottle of scotch and leaves it sitting neatly on her kitchen counter before leaving Princeton for the weekend. She is not going be in the same city as that brilliant bastard. It's a shame about Wilson though. She thought maybe there might have been something but not with House there like a jealous younger sibling or a possessive lover. She dismisses the last out of hand because she can't see it between them not as they are now; maybe in some past time.

She drives too fast all the way there but it's worth it to get there just as the sun is throwing mast shadows over the docks. This late in the season she isn't expecting to see anyone. Now is not the time for interaction. She wants the rush of the water and chill of the wind not some mindless conversation about the weather and the beauty of her boat.

The boat is hers now, fully and completely, because Jonathan hadn't read the full papers when they'd signed the agreement and she wasn't letting the little fucker have it after what he'd done to her. Maybe that should have been her clue that he wasn't going to last but she'd thought she'd been in love with him. Looking back she cringes at how naïve she was being with him. Would Wilson be the same way? She doesn't think so, not when he's so close to House. She would have had to wrest the boat from him if they'd signed together because he would have requested those protective changes Jonathan had scoffed at. She's fucking thankful now that Jonathan had been such a weakling that she never had trouble getting everything she wanted. No, _Ceto_ is all hers now. It feels good to be back; to have the deck shifting beneath her feet and the sheets laying heavy in her gloved-hand. With the sails up and the wind pushing them forward her and _Ceto_ are free.

It isn't a rough enough ride for her. She wants the wind to force her into putting the blade on but it stays at a good steady breeze nothing more. Her fingers are chilled inside her gloves and she knows her nose is red from the cold but she won't turn around yet. She wants the thrill of a gust knocking her down and washing the rail in cold saltwater. It used to scare Jonathan, though he'd never admit it, when that happened and she'd laugh and let the helm slip until the boat righted. Would Wilson understand that? Maybe if things had been different they would have gotten together for a fuck or two. Maybe it would have been more and she could have taken him out, seen if he could handle the wind and water. She wonders if he'd let her fuck him. Three ex-wives maybe he's bad in bed. She could train him out of it. She knows she is good when it comes to sex. He's so mild and easy going, even tempered and cool all day - no matter the fucked up game House is pushing him into at the time. She wants to see him under her, see him surrender all that tranquility. Volakis wants to watch him writher under her hands until he's sweaty and worn out; too tired to move even a hand but still begging for more. It's a fantasy she's had more than once now and sometimes she wonders if reality would ever be as good. She can feel herself getting slick from her thoughts and wonders if she left any toys on board from the last time. She hopes so.

_Ceto_ tries to round up, the tiller straining against the steady pressure of her hand. As the wind picks up she lets the sheet out, plays a little until the tell tales stream back as the wind pricks at her eyes until they tear. On the horizon the clouds roll in and she turns her face into the wind. Nothing exists now, nothing but the wind and _Ceto's_ bow slicing through the sea. She tacks back to the marina as the wind builds and the waves start to splash against the hull. There is salt on her lips when she licks them and a pleasant hum between her thighs. In the distance she can see a car pulling in and wonders if it's some insufferable idiot who'll want to talk with her when she gets on the dock.


End file.
